


Bitter Honey On Your Lips

by xxjinchuurikixx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Begging, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Filthy, Just outright porn, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Minimal Prep, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 03:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15810687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxjinchuurikixx/pseuds/xxjinchuurikixx
Summary: Stiles looks up at Derek, reaches a hand out to touch his jaw, lightly. “I’m ready.”Derek turns his face into the touch, kisses Stiles’ palm, and then closes his eyes. When he opens them, they’re red as garnet, and his fangs have dropped when he exhales a warm, damp breath across Stiles’ palm.“You’re gonna be my good boy… Understand?”Stiles nods. “Yes, sir.”





	Bitter Honey On Your Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Warning, eh::  
> This fic contains usage of the names "cockslut" and "bitch" as terms of endearment. If that's not cool for you, this probably isn't a cup of tea you should drink.  
>  This was supposed to be a Saturday night present, and then I overworked myself at the Neal McCoy concert... so yeah, that's the kind of person who I am.
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr!! [xxjinchuurikixx](http://xxjinchuurikixx.tumblr.com/)  
> -xo, mo

  
  


**

 

“You’re sure about this?” Derek says again as he kneels on the bed, gently touching Stiles’ calf.

Stiles nods, dropping his head back against the pillows as he closes his eyes. “Derek, you don’t have to keep asking me. We talked about this.” He opens one eye and looks up at Derek, shirtless and damp from his shower over him. “And it was embarrassing enough then.”

“It was only embarrassing for you because I could smell you getting wet,” Derek purrs, rubbing his hand up the inside of Stiles’ thigh.

Stiles is already naked, and he’s already finding it hard to keep his mind focused on anything but the places where Derek touched him.

“And you agreed to it,” Stiles adds breathily. “But if you change your mind, I’m not gonna be mad or anything. It’s only sexy if we’re both enjoying it.”

Derek shakes his head, stooping down to place a kiss on Stiles’ bare knee. “Just knowing you enjoy something is enough to make me enjoy it.”

“And, and, and—we don’t even know if I’ll like it. It was just a thought.”

“And if you don’t like it?”

“I safeword out and you cuddle me.”

Derek nods. “Good. So… I guess we can start now, if you’re ready.”

Stiles exhales slowly, hands pawing over the smooth, fresh sheets. He’s already getting hard against his belly, the room feeling warm and small with Derek kneeling between his legs. 

Stiles thinks of that day not even a week ago in the living room, when he had paused  _ Alvin and the Chipmunks Meet the Wolfman _ and turned to Derek on the sofa.

~

“Stiles, you’ve been trying to get me to watch this movie for three months. And now I’m actually enjoying it—what’s wrong and can it wait?” Derek said, looking up at Stiles with a frown. His expression instantly softened when he saw Stiles chewing on his lip, hands folded in his lap. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Stiles patted Derek’s thigh in rapid succession. “Nothing, nothing. No—it’s okay.”

Derek turned until they were facing each other, knees bumping. “Then what’s up?”

“I… I’ve been thinking about some… things. And I know if I don’t talk about it soon, I’m never gonna do it, so I’d like to see if it’s something you’re interested in.” Stiles looked up at Derek, who was watching him carefully.

“You’re happy with me… right?” Derek said softly.

Stiles climbed almost on top of him and kissed Derek soundly, carding his fingers through that ridiculous hair. “So happy. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Derek purred.

“Ok… good, cause what I’m about to ask for might be a bit… much?”

As Stiles explained, Derek’s eyes got wider, but his flushed face was a reassuring suspect. When Stiles was done, Derek’s hand slipped between his thighs, and Stiles rolled his hips into the touch.

“That… You really want to try that? It sounds… degrading,” Derek said, though he was letting Stiles rut into his hand, hard from just talking about it.

“That’s the idea, I think… I don’t know, we don’t have to—“

“Just a few conditions.”

“Anything.”

“I won’t call you ‘Stiles’ or ‘baby’… That’s—they don’t have a place in this kind of… yeah.”

“Totally,” Stiles said, shuddering as Derek cupped him roughly.

“You don’t call me ‘Derek’. Or ‘alpha’.”

“You love when I call you alpha.”

“Not for this. I… my integrity as your alpha is to take care of you. Before and after, I’m your alpha, but if we do this, I’m just a wolf,” Derek said.

Stiles nodded. “If either of us want to stop… we say ‘wolfsbane’.”

“Nice safeword,” Derek laughed, leaning in to nuzzle Stiles’ neck.

“It was either that or ‘Jackson’. It has to kill the mood.”

~

Stiles looks up at Derek, reaches a hand out to touch his jaw, lightly. “I’m ready.”

Derek turns his face into the touch, kisses Stiles’ palm, and then closes his eyes. When he opens them, they’re red as garnet, and his fangs have dropped when he exhales a warm, damp breath across Stiles’ palm.

The burning wet heat of Derek’s tongue padding across Stiles’ palm to the tip of his finger makes his pulse beat hard in his wrist, Derek’s fingers tightly wrapped around it. 

“You’re gonna be my good boy… Understand?”

Stiles nods. “Yes, sir,” he says gently, and Derek’s lids droop, the sound in his chest close to a threat, close to a purr. 

Derek’s eyes flicker, crimson warm as a flame, and he curls his fingers under Stiles’ chin and pulls. “Kneel.”

Stiles slides off the bed and to his knees, his eyelids heavy. He tucks his arms behind his back, fingers fiddling together. Derek cups his cheek, thumb stroking over Stiles’ lips.

“So beautiful… Open your mouth for me, pup,” Derek says, and Stiles’ mouth falls open, his pink tongue poking out, wet and shining. Derek growls, running his hand over himself through his black briefs. He slides his thumb into Stiles’ mouth, strokes it over his tongue and his tiny human canines. 

Derek exhales shakily, looking down at Stiles through heavy-lidded eyes. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth first. You’re gonna get me nice and hard so I can fuck you right, okay, pup?”

Stiles sucks on Derek’s thumb, then pulls off with a wet pop, his cheeks already a brilliant crimson. “Yes, sir.” His honey-brown eyes are nearly eclipsed by the black of his pupils, and Derek unbuttons his jeans slowly, watching how Stiles watches his face, focused, transfixed.

Derek pulls his cock out, which is already half hard and still flooding with blood, but he can’t really give a damn about appearances during the scene. Yeah, he’s a cold, calculated dominant, but this is still  _ his _ Stiles kneeling for him,  _ his _ Stiles ready to take the sharpest, most jagged edges of Derek with pleasure and pleading eyes.

He strokes his cock a few times, then taps the head against Stiles’ lips, watching how precome drips eagerly onto Stiles’ plush mouth.

Stiles parts his lips wider, rubs his tongue along the underside of the head and up over the slit.

Groaning, Derek nudges forward a bit, watching the flushed head of his dick disappear into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles closes his eyes and groans quietly, wrapping his lips around Derek’s girth and giving him a soft suck.

Derek lets Stiles tease him a few minutes, sucking and licking along the first few inches of his cock, never giving him more than that. Sooner than he’d like, however, he tangles a hand into Stiles’ hair and thrusts slowly into his mouth, deeper than before. Stiles moans, the sound caught in his throat as his lips and soft tongue and hot throat work around Derek’s cock.

Stiles taught himself early in their relationship how to take Derek’s cock down his throat, but Derek never forced that kind of foreplay—or even casual blowjob time—on Stiles. If Stiles wanted Derek’s cock nudging deep inside his throat, making his windpipe bulge just that little bit that drove Derek crazy, then it was Stiles’ choice.

Now, Derek holds Stiles still by his jaw and his hair, and he thrusts into his mouth until he feels Stiles swallowing around him, a reedy clicking sound following.

Derek growls, pulling back and fucking back in, watching the tears spring to Stiles’ eyes as he fights off a gagging sound. Derek starts fucking his mouth quick and wet, the sounds of Stiles’ wet mouth and needy whimpers making the head of his cock throb, his balls already tingling.

When he feels like he can’t take it any more, he pulls Stiles down until his nose is nestled in the dark thatch of Derek’s pubic hair, and he holds him there.

He watches the tears slide down Stiles’ cheeks, feels his throat spasm around the length of his cock, and Derek snarls and pulls Stiles off. The flood of spit from his mouth is shining on Derek’s cock, and the little strands connecting Stiles’ red, soft mouth to Derek’s throbbing, fully-hard cock make Derek want to scream at the moon. Stiles’ deep inhale sounds like he has broken the surface of a mighty ocean wave, his shoulders heaving.

Derek stoops down and bites Stiles’ lips, licking at the mess as he curls his fingers around Stiles’ throat and holds him there. “Such a good boy. I could fuck your mouth and come down your throat, and you’d take it so well, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Stiles gasps, his voice scratchy and soft, and Derek knows he’s going to have a sore throat tomorrow. 

It makes his chest flare with heat, and he savages Stiles’ mouth with a hot kiss. “That’s my good bitch.”

“Sir, please,” Stiles says, bringing his arms out from behind his back to run his hands up Derek’s thighs, grabbing at his hips as he kisses him again.

“Oh, look at that,” Derek says, breaking the kiss to grab Stiles’ dick and give him a few long, teasing pumps. The head is burning hot in his hand, slick with precome and red as a cherry. “Is that for me?”

“Only you, sir,” Stiles says, eyes falling shut as his hips tremble with the urge to rock into Derek’s hand.

“What a nice present. You’re so beautiful—you ready for me to fuck you, pup?”

Stiles nods, slow and wistful.

Derek kisses his mouth, very softly, and then taps his chin. “Get up on the bed. Hands and knees; I want your ass right at the edge for me.”

Still blissed out, Stiles climbs onto the bed and kneels, running his palms over the sheets as he shuffles back to the edge of the bed.

They discarded their comforters and throw blankets for the sake of clean up, and also so Stiles would have very little to hold onto.

Derek spreads Stiles’ cheeks apart with his big hands, growling through his fangs at the sight. His boy is smooth and dripping wet, the rim of his right hole flushed red and absolutely glistening.

Stiles stretched himself minimally while Derek was in the shower, using more than enough lube but not enough fingers. When Derek shoves two fingers in to the second knuckle with no preamble, Stiles feels the heat spasm up his back, and he cries out at the sweet burn.

“You’re so wet inside. What a good little slut—so hungry for my cock.”

Shuddering, Stiles thrusts back against Derek’s fingers, feeling them twist and scissor inside of him. Derek’s never been so forceful with him, and just the knowledge that he’s being used for Derek’s pleasure makes his stomach coil.

“You want my cock, good boy?” Derek asks, fucking his fingers in and out of Stiles hard and slow, his grip on Stiles’ hip bruising and hot.

Stiles’ mouth falls open and his head lolls to the side as Derek abuses his prostate.

There’s a snarl behind him, and then Stiles yelps as Derek grabs him by his hand and yanks him up onto his knees. His fingers crook up into Stiles hard, a third nudging in beside them, barely wet. “I asked you a question, pup.”

“Yes, sir. Please, I want your cock,” Stiles mewls, hands slipping over Derek’s thighs. He feels Derek quake against him at the name, almost unwillingly pleased by the sound of it. Stiles’ cock dribbles a thick drop of precum onto the bed, the pale sheets staining gray. 

“You want me to fuck you nice and hard? Fill you up with my cum, my pretty cockslut?” Derek growls against Stiles’ cheek, and Stiles chokes on a sob.

Shame curls through him, bittersweet and hot, mixing with the fever-bliss pleasure rushing through his veins. “Yes, sir. I need your cum—please fill me up, I want it.”

“That’s a good boy,” Derek purrs, then his fingers are gone from Stiles’ hole and he’s forcing Stiles back down onto his hands and knees. Stiles moans, hands curling to fists in the sheets as he hears Derek slicking up his cock behind him. “Just gonna use your slick—that’s all you get.”

“Yes, sir.”

Derek’s hand at the back of his neck squeezes, and Stiles feels the edge of claws in his skin. His eyes roll back, mouth falling open as Derek’s cock nudges up against his hole. Derek’s enjoying this more than he’d probably admit, and it makes Stiles burn inside.

The head of Derek’s dick is blood-hot as he pushes it against Stiles’ hole, his rim catching at it, trying to clutch at that head and pull it inside. “You want my dick, pup?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You gotta ask prettier than that.”

Stiles wriggles his hips, arching his back. “Please, sir, please, need you inside me.”

“Need what?”

Keening, Stiles pushes back against Derek’s hand until the pressure of his claw tips burn his skin. “Sir, need your cock. Need your knot in me, please,  _ please _ .”

Derek covers Stiles’ back with his body, thrusting into him in a single push. It’s searing hot, the stretch burning like pulled sugar through Stiles’ nerves, and he falls down onto his elbows and whines so shakily he barely recognizes the sound as his own voice.

“What a good boy,” Derek says, growling as he licks the sweat from Stiles’ shoulder blade, following the curve of it up to the nape of his neck. Derek sets his fangs there, drooling on the tender, sweaty skin as he claws at Stiles’ hips with both hands.

His weight is crushing, his pace already almost unbearable. Derek fucks Stiles like this when he’s about to cum, when Stiles is soft and pliant under him, already spent from one or two orgasms. Derek holds him close and kisses him as he gets to that blinding white place where Stiles is already blissed out.

Somehow, this feels different. It could be the minimal prep Stiles gave himself, or it could be the filth pouring from Derek’s mouth as he takes and takes at this brutal pace. It doesn’t feel like his alpha on top of him—it just feels like a beast.

Stiles doesn’t hold back, lets every pathetic cry and aching moan fall from his lips, a string of spit dripping from his mouth to the sheet, his forehead pressed to the mattress. His knuckles burn from gripping the sheets so tightly, his cock swinging between his legs with every vicious thrust.

Derek is merciless, snarling as his teeth leave crescent bruises on the nape of Stiles’ neck, his shoulders, everywhere he can reach. Every now and then they break the skin, leaving tiny pinpricks of blood welling on Stiles’ skin. The salt of his sweat and the heat of Derek’s tongue lapping up the blood is a spicy thrill Stiles has never felt.

Derek kneels onto the bed, shoving Stiles forward until he has enough room to sit back. He pulls Stiles onto his dick as he fucks forward, the overwhelming strength of it enough to shake Stiles’ core. “That’s my good little bitch. Taking my cock so well.” Derek grips at Stiles’ thigh, claws grazing the tender skin just inside, close to his balls.

Stiles turns his head to the side, rutting back against Derek’s hips. The sound is wet and sharp, the slap of Derek’s thighs against his ass, the noise the extra lube makes as it drips down and slicks Stiles’ thighs. “Sir, may I come, please… please, let me come.” His voice is brittle and soft, and Derek groans behind him.

“Already? We’re just getting started, pet.” He chuckles, the sound raising chills across Stiles’ skin. “Go ahead. If you can come from just my cock, then you deserve it, my good boy. My pretty slut.”

Stiles whimpers, then turns his face and buries it in the mattress until it’s hard to breathe, until he can barely hear himself scream as he starts to come. His spurts are messy, cock bouncing from Derek’s thrust. A mess of it drips on the sheets, a string of cum sticking to his belly and the head of his cock.

Every nerve is a white-hot spark, the light of fireworks and burning stars bursting behind Stiles’ eyes. Meanwhile Derek doesn’t relent, keeps fucking him at that deliciously savage pace.

“You made a mess,” Derek sneers, burying himself to the hilt hard, staying there as Stiles keens brokenly into the mattress. The position has Derek’s cock pressing heavy and rough to his prostate, his walls trembling around the girth of it. “Give me some.”

Stiles barely hears the command before his body registers it, and he kneels up, trembling as he swipes his fingers through the puddle on the bed. He sags back against Derek’s body, his arm burning with the effort it takes to hold his hand up. Derek’s tongue laps at his fingers, then his lips close around Stiles’ messy fingers, and he sucks wetly at the digits. His fangs are thick against Stiles’ fingers, tongue swirling between and around each fingertip before Derek sucks hard and pulls off, the way he likes to suck Stiles’ cock.

“Sir…” Stiles murmurs, and Derek kisses his jaw, then his sweaty temple. He slides his hand up Stiles’ belly, through the stringy mess, curls his fingers around Stiles’ throat and holds him close as he kisses his ear.

“Good boy. You’re so good for me,” Derek says, and his voice is so warm and gentle it makes Stiles think he’s about to break the scene.

Then Derek’s hand around his throat tightens, just enough for Stiles’ instincts to tell him he should be afraid. Of course, it just makes his dick twitch, still mostly hard from his first orgasm, that shameful sting of pleasure tightening his balls.

Derek starts fucking into him, holding Stiles by his throat and his hip, the pace a slow, hard burn. Derek pulls back steady, thrusts in sharp, and Stiles reaches back and grips Derek’s ass hard, blunt nails biting little crescents into the taut muscle. 

The sting may be dull to a werewolf, but Derek groans, and his pace stutters. “You need more, gorgeous?”

Stiles nods, clawing at Derek’s ass. “ _ Please _ .”

Derek pulls out abruptly, pushing Stiles down onto the bed. Stiles whimpers at the sudden burn, his hole gaping, twitching around nothing. He rolls onto his side, looking up at Derek with bleary, wet eyes.

Derek’s stroking his dick slowly, eyes blazing red, and he reaches out and cups Stiles’ face, running his thumb through a tear track. “Don’t cry, pet. You crying cause you want my cock that bad, huh?”

Stiles could  _ weep _ , whimpering desperately as he nods, little trembles rocking through his body.

“You’re gonna show me how bad you want it.” Derek tangles a hand in Stiles’ hair and drags him into a wet kiss that is mostly Stiles moaning open mouthed against Derek’s lips and tongue. Derek drags him up and switches places with him, lying back against the pillows in a fashion that could only be described as a cavalier lounge. “Come here, slut. Come ride my cock—show me how much you need it.”

Stiles doesn’t need to be told twice, crawling up Derek’s body and straddling him with quivering thighs. He kisses the corner of Derek’s mouth reverently, and Derek snaps his teeth at him. The sudden splash of precum that drips on Derek’s abs has them both looking down, Stiles’ face burning with shame.

Derek gets a hand in his hand and drags him up, their cocks rutting together as Derek grabs Stiles’ jaw with his other hand and licks his mouth hungrily. “Good bitch. Go on.”

Stiles is released, and he sits up and reaches behind himself, guiding Derek’s cock to his slick, open hole. He teases them both for a moment, rubbing the thick, flared head over his perineum over and over, biting his lip.

Beneath him, Derek growls, and Stiles plants a hand on his chest and eases up. The head pops in, and Stiles sits down faster than he usually does when he’s riding Derek’s dick. They both hiss at the heat, Stiles’ hips trembling at the stretch, gravity filling him to the hilt. He moans brokenly, the sound thick in his mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding down on Derek’s dick.

“That’s a good boy. So tight, fuck.”

Stiles lifts up steady, sinking back down hard. He’s too shaky to ride Derek slow, but the press of Derek filling him deep and strong is what he wants. He runs his palms over Derek’s sweaty chest, tangling his fingers through the dark, soft hair between his pecs.

Derek’s hands flex at his sides, and Stiles knows Derek wants to touch him, can see him shaking with the need of it.

“T-touch me, sir. Please,” Stiles says gently, scratching his nails over Derek’s abs. “Need your hands on me, please.”

Derek groans. “When you beg so pretty like that.” He makes a pained sound and then sets his hands on Stiles’ hips, running them up his sides.

He roughly grabs at Stiles’ soft chest before he tweaks both of his nipples, pinching them firmly as Stiles keeps bouncing.

The tug stings, and Stiles moans as he rides Derek harder. “Thank you, sir.” Stiles whimpers, his body thrumming with heat, cock fully hard and dripping. But he’s not sated, yet—he’s not getting what he really wants. “Harder.”

“What’s that, pet?”

“Please. Nnn-not enough.” Stiles pants, still working his hips. “Give it to me harder. Fuck me, please.”

“Oh, are you too tired to ride my dick like you want?” Derek teases his nipples, rolling them gently under his fingertips before he pinches them and pulls again.

Stiles nods. “Please, more.”

“My lazy little slut. Can’t even ride me right—make me do all the work,” Derek sighs like it’s a terrible inconvenience, and he sits up a bit to kiss the center of Stiles’ chest. Then he bites him, hard, just above his left nipple.

Stiles jolts against the sharp ache that spreads through his chest, but what feels better that anything is the throbbing pulse that lingers when Derek doesn’t soothe the bite with his tongue. He just lays back, grabs Stiles’ hips hard, and starts fucking up into him hard and fast. His heels are dug hard into the bed for leverage, and every time he ruts his hips up he pulls Stiles down onto his dick with ruthless hunger.

Stiles’ mouth falls open, and the most obscene moan falls from his lips, broken up by the hard pistoning of Derek’s cock in and out of him. Every pitiful, needy sound is punched out of him, and he claws Derek’s chest for leverage as he gets fucked so hard he knows, he  _ knows _ , if Derek’s hands weren’t anchored to his hips Stiles would have been bucked right off the bed.

“Yes, fuck me, fuck me, just like that— _ oh _ , ah, puh-please.” Stiles can hardly breathe, but he manages to beg sweet enough for Derek to give it to him just how he wants. The snarl that rips out of Derek’s chest is what tips Stiles over the edge, the jagged sound of it cutting through his gut, unspooling velvet heat in his groin.

Stiles’ cock twitches, ropes of his sticky, hot cum painting Derek’s abs as the wolf keeps fucking him, hard and hungry.

“That’s a good boy. Good little cockslut—fucking gorgeous,” Derek groans, still fucking Stiles like he’s feral.

“S-s-s… sorry, sir. I’m so sorry.” Stiles is feeling light, sluggish as Derek keeps using him, his arms barely able to hold himself up above Derek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t wait, I didn’t ask—”

“It’s okay, you’re alright. You just feel good, huh? You want my knot, pet? You ready for it?”

Stiles thinks he nods, or he hopes the bouncing of his unsteady head as he gets fucked looks like a nod for Derek.

“Yeah, I bet you are. My good little bitch—gonna fill you with my cum, gonna fucking breed you.” Derek’s voice is like velvet on Stiles’ skin, and he lays down against Derek’s chest and sobs into his neck, cock twitching between their slick stomachs.

The world feels tilted, heavy, and then Stiles is on his back, his arms falling over his head. He paws about for a pillow, then realizes Derek has just flipped them over, his hands dangling over the foot of the bed.

Without gravity to assist him, Stiles’ quivering thighs fall open, and Derek sits back and grabs him under the knees, pushing his legs further apart as he gets back to that heavenly, punishing pace.

Head lolling to the side, Stiles looks up at Derek, mouth slack and wet, body on fire.

Derek’s sweaty and flushed, his hair a mess, his brows knit tight. The expression in his glowing ruby eyes is one Stiles can’t read, but it’s something close to desperation, he thinks.

Stiles’ mouth feels fluffy, throat dry from panting, but he licks his sore lips and tries to form words with them. “…who… -long to.”

Derek groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “What, pet?”

“Who… do I belong to…?” Stiles repeats, then his voice splinters on a reedy moan, his back arching so Derek can slide into him just right, the angle lighting up tingles of pleasure in his hips, his hands.

The sound Derek makes is something like Stiles has only heard when he’s shifted, and it punches a broken noise from Stiles’ throat in response. “Me. You’re mine; my good boy.”

“Yours. I’m yours, sir.”

“You’re my what?”

“I’m your good boy.”

“Yeah, that’s right. My  _ very _ good boy. You my pretty little slut?”

Stiles nods desperately.

Derek gives him a hard thrust, pushing Stiles’ knees down to his shoulders. The motion nearly folds him in half, and Stiles keens. “Aren’t you my good boy?”

Tears wetting his temples, Stiles nods again.

“Then tell me you’re my pretty little slut,” Derek snarls.

“I’m… I’m your p-pretty little slut,” Stiles moans, his voice slurring. Derek starts fucking him harder, the pleasure in his body edging his sensitivity with caramelized pain.

“My good cockslut, huh? Are you my dirty cockslut, pet?”

Stiles nods, almost delirious with shame, his stomach coiled up burning tight. “’m your dirty cockslut, sir. Love your fucking cock so much—want your cum.”

“Shit,  _ fuck _ . Good boy,” Derek groans, lying down over Stiles, spreading his legs open as he fucks into him with uncoordinated thrusts for the first time that night. “So needy for my cock. No one else could give you what you want—no one else could fuck you like I can, could they, pup?”

“No, sir. No one—“

“Cause you’re  _ my _ pretty hole to fuck, aren’t you? You’re mine; you were made for me to fuck you.”

Stiles can feel the familiar tug of the knot, stretching him, lighting him up from the inside as it grinds against his prostate. “Yes, sir. Please, fuck, please breed me, sir.” He uses the last bit of core strength he has to lift his head and bites Derek’s shoulder, hard enough to leave an impermanent mark on his werewolf skin.

Derek roars, and when he turns his face into Stiles’ neck and bites, the ferocity is muted by desperation. There’s a split second where Stiles thinks Derek won’t do it—and then his skin splits, the fiery burn of Derek’s fangs breaking through his flesh overshadowed by the sudden wave of agonizing ecstasy that rushes Stiles’ body.

He wraps his arms around Derek and holds him so tight it might hurt, even though Derek is  _ Derek _ . His body seizes, every muscle stretched taut or coiled tight, his entire being clinging to Derek as he comes between them again while Derek fills him up.

Derek’s body shudders above him, the knot tethering them together as it swells full, pressing tight to Stiles’ prostate, the rush of Derek’s spunk filling Stiles fever-hot. A litany of filthy praise falls from Derek’s lips as he reaches up and grabs Stiles by the jaw, turning his head to the side to further bare his neck. His tongue laps across the stinging wound, and Stiles gets dizzy when he feels Derek absently bleeding the pain from him.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you,” Stiles mutters, his limbs going tingly and numb, every ache bleeding from his body as he blanks out under Derek’s warmth and weight.

When Stiles opens his eyes again, he’s propped against the pillows, Derek folded around him neatly, the knot still tying them together. Stiles shifts a little, his legs draped over Derek’s like a little bench. His cock is clean and soft, his tummy free of the discomfort of drying cum.

Derek has the glass of water he set on the nightstand before they started, and he’s smiling at Stiles brilliantly. “Hi. Probably should have kept the blankets closer to the bed.”

Stiles grins, cheesed, and thumps his head back against the headboard. “It’s alright… You’re my big, warm blanket right now. Hi…”

“Feel good, baby?”

“Very.” Derek helps Stiles drink half of the water, then takes a small sip himself. Stiles runs his fingertips down Derek’s arm, admiring his flushed chest, which has also been wiped clean. “That was…”

Derek purrs, setting down the glass before lying down on Stiles’ chest, crushing him close with his arms. He nuzzles the side of his neck, the pain a distant, warm ache. “You smelled so good. Every time I was afraid I went too far, you’d make the most beautiful sound.”

Stiles flushes, linking his arms around Derek’s neck, petting his back, which is now free of sweat. The room smells like it, though—the thick, heady scent of their coupling that often lingers for hours, even for Stiles’ human senses. “So it was okay?”

Derek’s fingertips touch the bruising on one of Stiles’ hips, indents from his claws bright red over deep lilac petal-prints. “I got a little carried away, though.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You bruise me most times we have sex. The perks of having a werewolf boyfriend—I’m always marked.”

The grumble in Derek’s chest hums through Stiles’ ribs, and he draws Derek down for a long, slow kiss. He can taste his blood in Derek’s mouth, the salty iron of it clouding Derek’s gentle flavor.

Derek props himself up and makes Stiles finish the water, then when his knot goes down, he pulls out gingerly, kneeling between Stiles’ legs to wipe him clean with a cool cloth. Stiles puts up minimal fuss when Derek gets up to put on a pair of briefs and to get Stiles’ meds from the bathroom cabinet. Derek brings the clean comforters from the laundry basket by the closet and he gets Stiles into a pair of drawstrings before he climbs into the bed and wraps Stiles up in his arms and the fresh scented blankets.

“Stiles…” Derek says against Stiles’ hair while Stiles doses. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Alpha.”

Derek hugs him tighter. “Just… you know… was any of it tonight—did anything I said go too far?”

Stiles sighs, kissing Derek’s neck. “Derek you said yourself; every time you called me a name I smelled better. I really liked it… You know why?”

Huffing, Derek tilts his head back. “Why?”

“Because,” Stiles whispers, hooking his leg over Derek’s hip under the covers. “I  _ am _ your little cockslut.”

Derek flushes, sputtering as he sits back far enough to see Stiles’ face. “Stiles—“

“I love your body, Derek. Love all the ways you can use me for your pleasure—all the ways you please me back. It’s like—yeah, I’m kind of a slut, but just for you. The things I would do to you, the stuff I let you do to me… It’s only for you; for us. And it turns me on that… well, when  _ you _ say it. It’s only okay, and it’s only sexy as fuck, because it’s  _ you _ . No one else could call me their good bitch and get a good reaction out of me,” Stiles says with a frown, and Derek laughs. “So… if that makes sense, then we’re okay. Right?”

“It makes sense… I—I kind of liked calling you those things… Not just because you enjoyed it, but because my wolf liked it. I liked knowing I own this primal, needy part of you. That I make your body hungry.”

“Damn right you do.” Stiles kisses Derek’s jaw, nuzzling his beard with his nose. “Not that we ever have to do this again, but I liked my big, bad alpha.”

Derek pulls Stiles onto his chest as he rolls onto his back, tangling their legs together as he gets a hand in Stiles’ hair and holds him close. “Yeah… I think the three orgasms made that clear.”

Stiles giggles, burying his face in Derek’s neck.

It’s quiet for a few minutes, the two of them just listening to each other breathe. Stiles inhales deeply, lips barely touching the hollow of Derek’s throat. “I think we should keep ‘pup’… I really like it.”

Derek purrs, raking his blunt nails over Stiles’ scalp. “Whatever my good boy wants.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oh hoy minoy  
> 
> 
> I just really gotta go and take a rest it seems! Let me know if I need to very gently stir some vanilla into my fics or if y'all want me to keep up with this devil's food chocolate mess ; )


End file.
